


zephyr

by nevermordor



Series: Anywhere I Go, There You Are [1]
Category: One Piece
Genre: First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 05:43:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14302053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nevermordor/pseuds/nevermordor
Summary: “I think I could beat you with one hand and blindfolded,” Zoro adds which makes Luffy laugh again. It doesn’t really take that much to make Luffy laugh but Zoro likes when he’s the cause of it anyway. He likes the way Luffy throws his head all the way back, the way his whole face crinkles up, the way that he laughs like he’s not afraid of anything. It’s probably weird, noticing these things about Luffy. Which doesn’t mean that Zoro doesn’t do it — notice.In which Luffy kisses Zoro twice, and Zoro still fails to take a hint.





	zephyr

**Author's Note:**

> oops i tripped and fell straight into one piece hell. i guess this is where i live now.
> 
> i'm very fond of these two dorks. they're dumb and grubby and i hope to write a lot more for them in the near future.

Back when they were still trawling the East Blue in a skiff for bounties, Johnny had this saying he liked. Zoro was the best at fishing, and Yosaku was the one who knew his way around the scattered islands better than any map they could scrounge up, so that left Johnny in charge of the sails. Zoro would lean over the side of the boat, trailing his hand through the blue, sleepy waters until the breeze roused him and made Johnny whoop with laughter. “Hey bro,” he said, glancing at Zoro over the top of his sunglasses and winking playfully. “You know what it means whenever the wind changes? It’s good luck, bro! It means nothing but smooth sailing ahead for us!” Johnny was always a nice and overly-excitable kind of guy. He might have also been a dumbass, Zoro realizes, on the same day the west wind Merry has been riding for a week leaves them without warning.

“I don’t understand,” Nami mutters over and over. She’s sprawled facedown at the kitchen table, lifting her head only on occasion to sip the tea that Sanji’s placed beside her and to glower in resentment at her log pose. “I should have seen it coming.”

“Is it really that bad?” Chopper asks a bit anxiously.

Nami sighs. “Well, it’s not good. Without that wind, our travel time to the next island has just doubled.”

Not good at all. Zoro reads the room quickly, the slight tightening of Robin’s mouth and the nervous way that Usopp yanks at his hair. Luffy pauses in the middle of gnawing on a chicken bone. “It’s not like we were in a rush or anything.”

“That’s not the point,” Nami retorts. “We have a limited amount of time before the log pose resets itself. We don’t know how long it’ll take before the wind returns. The weather here is unpredictable. And we haven’t been able to replenish our supplies yet either.”

Sanji fiddles with his lighter. “We should be all right if we tighten our belts a little. We can hold out for two weeks, I think.” Everyone makes a careful point of not looking at Luffy. “Well. Maybe a week,” Sanji amends, which is still a fairly charitable estimate in Zoro’s opinion.

Luffy shrugs. “Nami’s smart, she’ll figure it out.” He yawns and just manages to avoid the pen Nami hurls at his face.

Despite Luffy’s vote of confidence, though, Nami doesn’t figure it out. And the wind doesn’t come back. The day crawls, growing steadily hotter in the still air and beneath the bloated sun. Sanji fills the bathtub with ice cubes for Chopper, who’s dizzy with the heat. By noon the rest of the crew has retreated below deck, with the exception of Robin, who has taken up near-permanent residence in the crow’s nest.

Zoro stays up top as well. Silence and space to himself are rare on a ship as small as the Merry. He shakes the restlessness from his hands and brings his swords out onto the deck. Kitetsu’s still been misbehaving lately and with the crew all safely out of reach, Zoro could use some extra one-on-one time with him. Kitetsu shivers as he’s unsheathed, sunlight winking against steel. Zoro grips him with both hands and begins to move slowly across the deck, cutting through the thick, humid air. He lunges and slashes and shifts with Merry as the waves blearily rock her.

“Oi, Zoro.” Zoro blinks past the sweat in his eyes, tries to step back and out of his head. There’s a whine from behind him and then, louder, “Oi, _Zoro,”_ in that wheedling voice that promises nothing but trouble.

“Captain,” he says, tilting his head in acknowledgement. He moves to sheathe Kitetsu.

Luffy clicks his tongue. “Nah, don’t.”

Zoro raises an eyebrow but does as Luffy says. He shifts fully out of his stance and turns, Kitetsu still humming in his grip. Luffy’s wrapped himself around the railing of the quarter deck. His chin is propped in his hand.

“Everything okay, Luffy?”

“Bored,” Luffy replies, sagging further. “Everybody’s sleeping or working or reading.”

“You wanna fight?”

Luffy brightens at once. He unwinds himself from the railing, limbs twanging as they snap back into place. “Fists or weapons?” Zoro asks as Luffy launches himself down onto the main deck, limbs still loose and flailing.

“You can use your swords.”

“I dunno. I might cut you pretty bad.”

“Like you could.”

“I _am_ going to be the greatest swordsman in the world. You can’t be too careful.”

Luffy bursts into an ear-splitting laugh. It starts deep in his chest and rises into something high and nasal and delighted. It’s a contagious laugh. Zoro has liked it since the first time he heard it. “I guess that’s true,” Luffy says, cracking his knuckles one by one. He bounces a little on the balls of his feet. “But I’m gonna kick your ass.”

“Nothing’s impossible,” Zoro teases. He switches Kitetsu out for Yubashiri, and he and Luffy begin to circle each other. “You want to know what I think?”

“Not really,” Luffy says, cracking his neck and pulling a frog face simultaneously.

Zoro bites down on the inside of his mouth to keep from grinning. “I bet I could beat you with one hand tied behind my back.”

Luffy brightens even more at that. “You think you could?”

“Probably, yeah.”

“You’re so _cool_. _”_ In someone else’s mouth, it would probably feel patronizing. In his crew mates’ mouths—from Luffy’s own lips—it makes him feel a little silly, and also a little taller.

“I think I could beat you with one hand and blindfolded,” Zoro adds which makes Luffy laugh again. It doesn’t really take that much to make Luffy laugh but Zoro likes when he’s the cause of it anyway. He likes the way Luffy throws his head all the way back, the way his whole face crinkles up, the way that he laughs like he’s not afraid of anything.

“My, such lively conversation today.” Robin’s sophisticated, cool voice floats down from above.

Zoro flushes. He’d forgotten she was still lurking up there. He yanks his bandana off his arm and knots it in place around his forehead. “Enough talk. Come,” he orders.

Luffy grins, his teeth fully bared, and then Zoro blinks and Luffy has already moved. He’s always a little faster than Zoro expects. Luffy flings himself to the right, but his left arm has already extended, his fist curving around in a long arc that swings for Zoro’s face. Zoro ducks the first punch and then brings his sword up just in time for Luffy’s other fist to slam into his guard. They skid backwards along the deck, Zoro’s arms strain as he shoves Luffy off him. Luffy goes flying, catching himself on the mast; he hoots, scurrying up the side of it. “Zoro’s so strong!”

“Told you so.”

Luffy’s smile turns fierce and Zoro has a second to brace himself before Luffy slingshots himself back around the mast. Zoro sees this and side-steps; he doesn’t see the rubbery snake of Luffy’s leg darting across the deck to wrap around his ankle. He moves just before Luffy strikes and smacks Luffy’s shin with the flat edge of Yubashiri. Luffy howls and retreats again.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Zoro jeers. He twirls Yubashiri, the steel singing. Luffy scowls. Zoro likes his scowl too: the curl of Luffy’s upper lip, the deep crease in his forehead. It’s probably weird, noticing these things about Luffy when he’s angry, or Luffy when he’s laughing, or drowsy or Luffy in general. Which doesn’t mean that Zoro doesn’t do it — notice. “C’mon,” Zoro calls.

A grunt of annoyance and Luffy’s hand comes flying from the direction of the stairwell. His fingers are loose, though, instead of curled into a fist. It makes Zoro falter, and then Luffy’s hand brushes his cheek. His palm is dry and rough with calluses. He’s warm with sweat and the sun. His fingertips skim across Zoro’s forehead in quick affection; Zoro blinks, and then the world goes black.

He staggers, Yubashiri cutting a whirlwind of defense around him. The darkness is soft against his face; Luffy yanked his bandana down and blinded him. Zoro tosses his head but the bandana stays fixed over his eyes. His ears prick up, tracking the air around him for the rush of an incoming attack. Nothing. Zoro turns in a slow, cautious circle, sword still raised.

“You look dumb like that,” Luffy remarks. He sounds far away — maybe thirty feet.

Zoro shifts in the direction of Luffy’s voice. “No shit. Give me a second, I need to fix it.”

“I thought you said you could fight me blindfolded,” Luffy says with snotty, gleeful cheer. There’s muffled laughter from the crow’s nest.

Zoro reels in his temper and waits. The deck doesn’t shift, but one of the ropes overhead creaks under sudden weight. Zoro brings Yubashiri up fast and there’s a squawk and scuffling as Luffy scrambles out of range.

Silence. Zoro flexes his grip on the hilt. “Running and hiding?” he taunts. Still nothing. He’s kind of impressed. He’s also out fifty beri, after betting Nami last week that Luffy couldn’t shut his dumb mouth for more than thirty seconds. That ought to cheer her up a little at least.

The sail snaps listlessly. A rope creaks; the mast groans. The air shifts slightly to his right. Zoro grins.

“Nice try,” he snarls, turning fast to meet the incoming blow. Yubashiri shivers in his grasp.

There’s a mouth pressed to the corner of his own.

Zoro’s arms go slack, even as the rest of his body goes rigid with shock. Yubashiri hits the deck, the tip of the blade burying deep into the wood. Usopp’s gonna be upset – he should move, but the lips on his are chapped and Luffy’s smiling against his mouth.

Just as suddenly as he kissed him, Luffy is gone. Zoro opens his mouth to speak and knuckles smash hard into his front teeth, snapping his head back. He trips on Yubashiri, still buried in Merry’s deck, and lands sprawled on his ass.

“Luffy, what the—?”

“I _won,_ ” Luffy crows, pleased with himself. “I knew I would! Ah, now I’m hungry again. Sanji! Hey, SAAAAANJII.”

Zoro lifts the edge of his bandana with his thumb. He watches Luffy go, ricocheting off the stairs and flinging himself through the galley doors. His jaw pulses with pain and Zoro doesn’t flush and he doesn’t touch the corner of his mouth where Luffy kissed him.

“What a rather unexpected turn of events, don’t you think, Mr. Swordsman?” Robin calls down airily from her perch.

Zoro doesn’t answer her either.  
  
  
  
  
The morning after the kiss, Luffy crashes into the kitchen five minutes after everyone has settled down with their plate of food, impatiently elbows Zoro aside and shovels half the contents of the breakfast table down his throat as Usopp screeches. He’s isn’t weird at all. Unlike Robin, who keeps shooting Zoro these meaningful looks he has no idea what to do with, but Robin is always weird one way or another, so it’s not that unusual. What really matters is that if he and Luffy weren’t okay, he’d know by now. When Luffy wants something, he yells; when he’s upset, he whines until Nami swats him or Sanji shoves a drumstick in his mouth. It is, in Zoro’s opinion, one of Luffy’s best qualities: he always says exactly what he means and feels, which means Zoro never has to think too hard. This is especially important, since he’s not so great at the thinking shit. The point is that they’re fine, and that he doesn’t have to keep wondering about the fight and the kiss. He can get back to what he’s good at, like clobbering Luffy upside the head when he tries to swipe the next rasher of bacon that Sanji sets down.

Not everything goes back to normal, though. Merry’s still stranded with nowhere to go. Nami’s not able to boss people around like she always does. There’s not a lot to do with himself but lay in the sun feeling useless and occasionally smacking at a rather stubborn bug that won’t stop crawling up and down the back of his neck. He adds ten pounds to his usual weights and an extra hundred push-ups to his workout routine. That kind of helps for a bit, but then Luffy interrupts him in the middle of his fourth rep of bicep curls, and Zoro has to stop in order to give him a piggyback ride. Later over dinner, Sanji’s being stupid as usual, and so Zoro has to snipe at him and the yelling helps ease some of the pulsing irritation at the front of his skull. But then Sanji calls him “a moldy old potato” and it makes Luffy laugh so hard he starts hiccupping. When Zoro glares at him, Luffy’s face is a deep pink, his eyes bright as his gaze finds and holds Zoro’s.

The itching feeling buries itself into the base of his neck. Zoro keeps swatting at it, but he’s starting to realize there’s no bug. There’s just a jittery, strange sensation that leaves him feeling rattled and a little like he needs to go stab something. It’s not entirely unpleasant.

Their third day of being stranded he’s sprawled out along the quarter deck, basking in the late afternoon sun while Nami grumbles on and on and fiddles with her log pose. He’s trying and failing to nap, and mostly he’s just watching Luffy and Usopp sit together along Merry’s bow, passing their one good fishing pole back and forth.

“Maybe they’ll catch an octopus,” Sanji says hopefully.

Luffy and Usopp have been bickering with each other for nearly an hour. If there were any fish in the area at some point, they’re long gone by now. Zoro wipes the sweat from his brow and tilts his head back. The sails hang in the humid air like limp ghosts. “Nami?”

“Yes?”

“What does it mean when the wind changes?”

“What do you mean, what does it mean?” she asks, impatient. “It doesn’t mean anything. It’s the result of shifts in air pressure.”

Zoro grits his teeth. “Never mind,” he mutters, and shuts his eyes against the glare of the sun. Sanji snorts; the galley doors creak as he disappears back into the kitchen. Zoro can feel himself being watched. He cracks an eye open. Nami stands over him, hands braced on her hips.

“Belle Mere also used to say that the wind brings change,” she says at last.

“A good change?”

“I don’t know. I think she…” Nami’s gaze strays briefly to the tangerine grove. “The wind itself isn’t good or bad. It just guides us. We can fight it, or we can try to work with it the best that we’re able to. It’ll still push us in whatever direction it chooses. Or lack thereof,” she finishes crossly.

“Johnny used to say that when the wind changed suddenly, it meant good luck.”

“At sea? Johnny’s an idiot.”

“Yeah,” Zoro mutters, as Usopp trudges towards them, empty-handed and shaking his head in exasperation. “He probably is.”

Nami and Usopp follow Sanji into the shade of the kitchen. Zoro stays where he is. He listens to the dull murmur of the waves and he continues to watch Luffy, who’s draped over the side of the ship, fishing pole still in hand, humming tunelessly to himself. Best to keep an eye on him after all, in case he slips and drowns. The back of his neck and arms are pink with the onset of sunburn. He’ll need a new shirt soon: he’s nearly outgrown the one he’s wearing. The fabric is worn thin from the weather of the Grand Line; Luffy rolls his shoulders and Zoro can see the ripple of muscle move through his arms, down along his back.

“Hey, we should spar again,” he blurts out.

Luffy’s head snaps around to look at Zoro. “You want to?”

“Yeah. It’s good practice.”

This isn’t a lie. Weight training and push-ups are all well and good but combat practice is best, has always taught him the most about his own body, how to move, how to think. And Nami is a cheat and Usopp’s a bit of a whiner, but Luffy’s always game and the only one who can match Zoro in a fight. That’s always been his favorite thing: throwing himself against Luffy, feeling him push right back with easy, casual strength.

That’s all this is, he decides, as Luffy hops down from the railing and tosses the fishing pole aside. This is practice.

“Zoro’s just upset because he lost last time,” Luffy teases.

“You got lucky.”

Luffy blows a raspberry at him. They circle each other. Zoro reaches for his bandana out of habit and then stops. That itching feeling crawls its way up the back of his neck, needling him at the base of his skull. He twists his fingers into the fabric until they go numb.

Luffy cocks his head. “Zoro?”

“Yeah,” Zoro says. He yanks his bandana off and knots it in place.

Yubashiri sings as they launch themselves at each other. Zoro’s arms throb and Luffy whips himself crazily back and forth across Merry’s deck. Zoro pivots quickly, meeting Luffy at each turn; his ears are ringing and sweat runs down the sides of his face and he can’t stop smiling, because Luffy won’t stop laughing.

Luffy catches himself on the mast and swings himself around once, twice, building momentum. “Brace yourself, Zoro!”

“Ready for you!”

Luffy flings himself forward. His foot hits the flat of Yubashiri’s blade, his weight forcing it sharply downward. Zoro lurches, trying to regain his balance. Luffy’s hand fists itself around the knot of his bandana, tilting his face up fast, and Zoro’s heart give a funny little twist. The jittery feeling races from the back of his neck, all the way down his spine.

Laughter flutters against his mouth. “Zoro,” Luffy says, his teeth grazing Zoro’s lower lip.

“Uh,” Zoro says. He realizes, belatedly, that there’s an arm wrapped around his ankle right before Luffy yanks hard. His back hits the deck, the air rushing from his lungs.

“I win again!” Luffy declares, before bouncing away.

“You really ought to work on your defense, Mr. Swordsman,” Robin remarks, perched in the crow’s nest — because of course she is.

Zoro ignores her. He closes his eyes, shutting out the sky, and waits until that nervous itching sensation slips away from him. The sun is hot on his face. For once, even Merry’s gentle rocking can’t lull him to sleep.  
  
  
  
  
The Going Merry isn’t a very big ship. She’s small and she’s scrappy, so she fits right in with them. But she only has two bedrooms. Between the seven of them there’s only one bathtub. Sometimes when they eat dinner together, Zoro has to sit on the floor next to Luffy because there isn’t enough space for everyone at the table and sometimes Usopp’s chemistry kit accidentally leaks all over the floor of the men’s quarters. Nami buys too many new clothes when she already doesn’t have the closet space. Chopper and Robin collect used books like stray cats, piling them up in uneven stacks beside their beds and in the corners of the kitchen. Zoro has watched Sanji stand in front of the fridge for fifteen minutes after a grocery trip, fumbling with the broccoli, the chicken, the butter, rearranging again and again until it all just barely fits. Somehow, he always manages to make it work.

Merry is small but there’s a place for each of them along her prow, or beneath the boughs of the tangerine grove, or bent over the stove in the corner of their cramped kitchen. Zoro knows his place: he can see it reflected back at him in the polished blades of his swords; he hears it in his voice when Usopp panics and needs a steady anchor; he feels it when Chopper starts to cry, when the crew gets scared, when they need someone to lean on. There isn’t much space, between the clutter and the baggage, in between the big plans and all the hope and the possibility that Merry carries with her each and every day, but there’s enough left over that he’s made himself fit.

Luffy is a really nice guy. He’s loud. He’s brave. He’s funny in a way that’s kind of annoying but mostly just makes Zoro laugh like he never used to, until he feels breathless and his chest aches.

But Luffy is the captain. And Zoro knows his place.  
  
  
  
  
By the end of the third day, it’s too hot to sit indoors or below deck anymore. There still isn’t much of a breeze but the night looks cloudy and promises rain and the air has cooled significantly. Sanji makes dinner into a picnic. Robin arranges and lights her collection of scented candles and Nami lays out blankets for them beneath the tangerine grove. The clouds continue to gather over Merry in dark patches even as the tension that’s been hanging over her for almost three days now slowly dissipates. Sanji has expensive rum he’s been hiding away and it’s spicy and makes Zoro’s unusually busy thoughts finally slow down.

“If a storm’s coming in,” Nami says, watching the sky, “the wind should be back soon.”

“And then we can get moving?” Luffy demands, as he grabs a sandwich off Usopp’s plate and narrowly avoids being stabbed with a fork.

“With any luck.”

“Good!” Luffy stuffs another three sandwiches in his mouth while Sanji isn’t looking. “I was getting so _bored.”_

“Now, now, captain. I’m sure you’ve found ways to entertain yourself,” Robin says demurely, sipping her tea. Zoro squints at her.

“I guess,” Luffy grumbles, his hand snaking towards her plate.

“Luffy, don’t you dare—”

“I made those _specifically_ for Robin-chan, you shitty—”

Sanji attempts to stomp on Luffy’s arm, nearly upending the salad bowl. Luffy snatches a sandwich off Chopper’s plate instead and then dives behind Zoro. “Help me!” Luffy howls, arms wrapping once, twice around Zoro’s chest.

“I can’t get a clean shot,” Usopp mumbles, dropping his slingshot and pulling his dinner plate protectively close.

“As long as you don’t steal from Nami-san and Robin-chan,” Sanji snaps, jabbing a threatening finger at the pair of them. “Don’t help him either, marimo.”

“What the hell did _I_ do?”

Luffy giggles. He hooks his chin over Zoro’s shoulder, settling himself more comfortably in place. The rum is heavy in Zoro’s mouth and makes his head buzz. Luffy’s left hand is splayed casually across his stomach; his cheek presses to Zoro’s when he lurches forward to snatch up what remains of Zoro’s dinner. He’s solid weight and warmth, even as the temperature drops and the sky overhead continues to mutter with thunder. Zoro takes another sip of rum and Luffy’s fingers brush along his wrist, across his chin.

“I wanna try some.”

“Go find your own.”

“Sanji’s mad, he’s not gonna give me any.”

Zoro rolls his eyes but passes the bottle back. Luffy takes a gulp and then gags in Zoro’s ear. “It’s gross!”

“Don’t waste it!” Zoro snaps, wrenching it back. Luffy laughs and Zoro can feel the vibration of it against his back. His breath is hot on Zoro’s neck, sweet and spicy from the rum. He’d probably taste good.

Usopp’s in the middle of a story, something about fending off a stampede of wild elephants. Chopper, curled up in Robin’s lap, is starry-eyed with wonder. Zoro takes another fast sip and tries to make himself listen too, but he feels heavy and his head hurts.

“Zoro?” Luffy murmurs, flicking his earrings.

“Yeah,” Zoro says, gently catching his wrist and forcing him to stop.

“You’re okay, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. Why?” He tries to tip his head back to look at him. Luffy’s arms tighten slightly.

“We just haven’t hung out a lot lately, except for fighting.”

“Luffy, it’s been three days.”

“Still,” Luffy grumbles into his shoulder.

“I’m fine,” Zoro assures him because Luffy’s can’t tell when someone’s lying to him. He looks down at Luffy’s fingers, which have tucked themselves into the band of his haramaki. He’s flushed and a little tired from the heat and the length of the days. Through the fog of the rum he tries to remember the last time someone held him like this before Luffy. A long time. He likes the way it feels.

Nami bolts to her feet with a shriek, shattering Usopp’s story and throwing Zoro’s body immediately into attack mode. He’s up on one knee, Luffy still clinging to him, when he realizes Nami’s not pointing toward an incoming enemy but rather upward. “Positions!” she yells, as the sails fill with a swell of violent wind. “Everybody, get to your positions!”

Zoro makes a break for the starboard side and Luffy rockets into the rigging overhead. The wind brings the storm that’s been threatening them all night long and the waves toss Merry back and forth. Chilly sea spray hits his face and clings to his skin. He holds onto Chopper with his free arm and they cling to the side of the ship as Merry flies across the waves.

When the storm passes and the sea calms itself, the moon has reached the highest point of the sky. Chopper slumps in exhaustion; Zoro nudges him in the direction of their quarters. “I’ll take first watch,” he offers. Nami looks ready to argue but she’s also bleary with sleep and her palms are skinned raw from yanking at the ropes.

He climbs up to the crow’s nest with the last of the rum from dinner. Ocean foam churns below as he drinks and keeps an eye on the sky. The breeze is cool and sweet and it’ll bring change, if nothing else, according to Nami. And Luffy’s whims shift as quickly as the sea itself; they slip through his fingers like water before he can fully grasp hold of them. Soon they’ll be at a new island and they’ll keep moving forward. Still, Zoro muses and takes another long gulp that burns his throat and makes the corners of his vision smear. It was nice while it lasted.

Zoro follows the moon’s slow descent, as the dawn breaks and the sky clears, and he runs his fingers along the corner of his mouth where Luffy kissed him twice.  
  
  
  
  
It feels good to be sailing again. Nami goes back to her usual self, barking orders and chasing Zoro back and forth across the deck while he struggles to keep up. Robin still sometimes gives him an odd half-smile over breakfast and sometimes Luffy leans into him when they’re squashed together around the table for a meal. But Zoro learns to avoid Robin’s gaze. He shifts himself further down the bench to give Luffy more room. Sometimes his neck still itches, but he learns to ignore that too. Little by little, he settles himself back into his old workout routine, into napping during the afternoons, into the ways things should be.

They’re a day out from land. Usopp left piles of junk strewn across the deck from his latest experiment. Zoro’s kicking spare bolts and wrenches out of the way to make space for training when Luffy plummets from the rigging. “Zoro,” Luffy says, grinning in exasperation, as if he didn’t just give Zoro a near heart attack. “Talk.”

“Okay. What do you want to talk about?” Zoro jokes and nudges aside a bin of screws.

“You’re being weird.” Luffy folds his arms, considers his words and then amends, “Weirder, anyway. How come?”

“I’m not being weird,” Zoro grumbles. Not exactly a convincing argument but he can’t think of anything better on the spot. He doesn’t want to have this conversation. Luffy’s not normally so focused.

“You are,” Luffy insists, stepping closer and Zoro takes a half-step back. They both freeze and shock flickers across Luffy’s expression.

“I told you, it’s nothing,” Zoro says, his tone sharp and as unwieldy as Kitetsu. “I’m tired.”

“You are not,” Luffy retorts. “You were sleeping for almost an hour after breakfast, I know, I saw you.”

“Look, don’t worry about me,” Zoro snaps. “You’ve got bigger things on your mind. Just let it go.” He turns on his heel to retrieve his swords and Luffy grabs his shoulder, whipping him back around. Zoro shoves his hand away but Luffy’s other hand is on his waist and Zoro’s face feels hot and strange. He pushes Luffy off again. “I said I don’t want to talk.”

“Zoro,” Luffy begins, in a half-whine. His hand touches Zoro’s neck, fingers rough, and Zoro shoves him hard.

“I said I don’t—”

Luffy grabs his wrist and yanks. Zoro stumbles and nearly trips face first into the deck. He catches himself and then kicks at Luffy’s right ankle. “What was that for?”

Luffy hops, avoiding the kick easily. “All you want to do is fight me,” he says, brow furrowed. “You almost never wanna fight me. Is it because I said your rum was gross? Are you still mad about it?”

“That’s not—” Zoro rakes his hand through his hair and briefly, furiously wishes that Luffy weren’t such a fucking idiot. “It’s not that.”

“Is it because I used your pillow case as a dish towel?”

“No, I’m—that was _you—?”_

“Is it because I won both times we fought?”

“Only because you cheated,” Zoro snarls at last.

That makes Luffy pause. “How did I cheat?”

“Don’t be dumb.”

“I never cheat,” Luffy retorts and finally sounds angry.

“Whatever,” Zoro mutters and turns away. He’s ready this time when Luffy grabs his shoulder and spins him around. His fist lashes out; Luffy bends in half, avoiding the blow. His head snaps back up, smashing into Zoro’s and knocking him flat onto the deck, with Luffy crashing down on top of him. Zoro flails and Luffy pins him.

“You’re fighting with me again,” Luffy says, something like hurt creeping into his voice. Zoro’s heart plummets even further. “I’m not getting up until you tell me what’s wrong.” A shadow falls across Zoro’s face as Luffy leans in close, the brim of his hat bumping Zoro’s forehead. “So talk to me.”

“Get off.”

“Nope. Talk to me.” Luffy flicks him across the nose. Zoro lurches and Luffy inflates himself, pinning Zoro to the deck once more.

“Luffy, damn it, I don’t—”

“Talk, Zoro.” Luffy flicks him across the nose again. Zoro tries to bite him, teeth clicking as Luffy pulls his hand back just in time.

“You’re such a pain in the ass,” he snaps. Luffy nods agreeably.

Zoro growls and slams his head back into the deck. Luffy is inescapable and watching him very closely. Fuck it, Zoro thinks, and tilts his head back a little more and to the side. He closes his eyes at the last minute and then rears up and kisses the curve of Luffy’s chin. His skin is hot against Zoro’s mouth — sunburned, just like Zoro knew he would be — but also softer than he expected. Zoro swallows hard, lets his head thump back down onto the deck.

“Zoro.”

“Yeah.”

A shadow falls back across his face. He squints past sunspots and finds Luffy grinning at him. The wind stirs and the sails fill with the breeze, pushing them westward.

“You’re not actually mad at me, are you.”

“No.”

“Do you keep fighting me so you can kiss me?”

Zoro glares at a passing cloud overhead.

“I like kissing you too. If you wanted to do it more, you coulda just asked when we weren’t fighting.”

“Yeah,” Zoro says at last. “I guess.”

“You’re a little stupid, Zoro.”

“Yeah.”

Luffy’s grin widens. “But I’m kinda stupid too.”

Zoro can’t help it; he smiles as well. “Yeah.”

Luffy leans in. Zoro tilts his face up and something long and slimy drags along the side of his face. He lets out a howl of rage and disgust, thrashing back and forth. “Did you just _lick_ me? You’re so gross, I hate you!”

Luffy cackles, impossible to dislodge. The more Zoro struggles, the tighter Luffy’s arms and legs wind around him. “I gotta keep you on your toes.”

Zoro sighs, suddenly too tired for any of this. “Yeah.”

“If you’re gonna be the greatest swordsman ever, you gotta be ready for anything.”

“You’re right, captain,” he says with dull exasperation. “As usual.”

Luffy leans down and kisses Zoro’s cheek, careful and slow in a way that Zoro didn’t think Luffy was capable of. He shakes his head back and forth until his hat slips off, and then presses his forehead to Zoro’s. “Hey, you wanna fight some more?”

“Best of three.”

“I’ll kick your ass.”

“You can try.”

“I will in a second,” Luffy assures him, and kisses him again.


End file.
